


Only You

by sweeterthankarma



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Jealous!Will Gorski, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-22 02:19:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17654177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweeterthankarma/pseuds/sweeterthankarma
Summary: Wolfgang stares at the wall. He hasn’t met Will’s eyes in minutes.“Lila isn't the kind of person to really take no for an answer,” he says simply, matter-of-factly.Will scoffs. “Well, you’ve never been the kind of person to let anyone else dictate what you did and didn’t do. You’ve never once allowed someone to push you around.”There’s a pause. Then, Will adds, “at least not when you didn’t want it.”





	Only You

**Author's Note:**

> Set in a mildly different s2 timeline where Will and Wolfgang are together, hiding out from Whispers and dealing with the chaos and curiosity that only Lila Facchini can cause.

Will dreams of Lila Facchini, and when he wakes he isn’t even sure if it’s his own dream, let alone a dream at all. 

    “I didn’t play along with her little game, I don’t know what part of that you aren’t getting,” Wolfgang snaps between puffs of his cigarette. They’ve been discussing this for twenty minutes now, but all Wolfgang has done is smoke. It feels like an interrogation to him, and he doesn’t want to be policed by...well, the police. 

The cop sulks in the corner, a hand scratching idly at his jaw while his gaze stays forward. Will is thinking, planning, strategizing, and Wolfgang can feel his own mind racing in an echo of how the other man feels. 

Wolfgang thinks Will should go back to sleep. They both know he hasn’t slept in days, not really, and his frustration seethes into Wolfgang's own bones, making him even more restless and debilitated than he otherwise would be.

    “You forget that I’m in your head,” Will replies coolly. He speaks moments later once the harshness of Wolfgang’s tone has settled in the air around them and the heat with which he said them stings a little less. Will has always been good at presenting cold hard facts, fighting fire with water, relentless and slow and steady and winning. The ground around them feels shaky, but Will doesn’t falter.

    “I can access your memories, just like you can access mine,” he continues. “And I can feel her touch on your skin.”

Wolfgang takes another deep breath of nicotine and closes his eyes.

    “You weren’t there,” he responds. “You wouldn’t know.”

    “I would know how to say no,” Will retorts back, fast as lightning. His words are more impassioned now. “I would know how to say that I’m not available to fuck around, that I’m not interested in fucking around. I would know how to say that I belong to someone else.”

Wolfgang stares at the wall. He hasn’t met Will’s eyes in minutes. 

    “Lila isn’t really the kind of person to take no for an answer,” he says simply, matter-of-factly.

Will scoffs. “Well, you’ve never been the kind of person to let anyone else dictate what you did and didn’t do. You’ve never once allowed someone to push you around.”

There’s a pause. Then, Will adds, “at least not when you didn’t want it.”

Will sends him a memory in the seconds that follow : the feeling of the his hands on the recipient’s chest, fingers hastily seeking the skin beneath his shirt, his mouth reeling around his crotch, shutting Wolfgang up with hard kisses and strict touches and sloppy movements. 

    “That was stupid,” Will had said that night, his lips trailing against the heat of Wolfgang’s cock, straining against his boxers. He was referring to Wolfgang’s latest slip-up, some lazy mistake, careless: a bottle of medicine left out in the open with a foreign label visible for Milton to translate the next time he came to visit. 

_ “Nicht klug,”  _ Will had hissed, the words rolling off his tongue with a foreign familiarity that belonged solely to Wolfgang. He strained under his touch and then responded in reflected English, “I know. Stupid.”

Wolfgang had grinned, though, taking his reprimandation with fervor, and he had been anything but ashamed when Will suckled bruises across his hips, teeth and all, proving a point. 

Wolfgang’s breath quickens, his eyes closing as the memory grows more enhanced; it arrived in his conscious hazy and distant at first, the way every bit of shared information between the two of them seemed to be lately, and then it grew clearer as Wolfgang’s own mind fills in the blanks from Will’s perspective. The drugs have been taking a toll on him, altering his sharing capabilities with his lover when he’s in the same room, let alone allowing him to visit with the others in their cluster. Will had thought Wolfgang would be kinder in these trying times. He was wrong, and he should have known; Wolfgang has never been exceptionally kind. 

The blond moves finally, burning out his cigarette and standing with a start. The chair beneath him lurches backwards with the movement and Will grimaces at the grating of wood and metal. The sound is more dissonant than it otherwise would be, thanks to the exhaustion in his head and the tension that’s taken up residence in every joint of his body.

    “Do you believe that?” Wolfgang asks then, his voice gruff. “That I’m not kind?”

Will sighs.  “I just don’t feel like you’re in this the same way that I am,” he admits. 

The connection between them isn’t strong enough anymore, not with the drugs in his system or the strain that sharing the latest memory had taken out of him. It’s good, Wolfgang thinks, because he doesn’t want Will to feel how intensely his heart splinters at his confession. His lover is sad and tired, his eyes dark and unsurprised at the conversation unfolding around him, like he’d expected this. 

And in a way, Wolfgang thinks he had expected this too. He’s never been good at being exclusive, and he’s never known how to love in the ways he should, in the ways that he oftentimes needs to. He has hardly the slightest idea on how to love Will in the way he deserves, though Will loves him back with more fire than he had ever imagined to exist, let alone be directed towards someone as contemptible as himself. 

Wolfgang walks over to him, standing between his knees at the edge of his chair. He reaches out for Will’s hands, palms open, waiting for him to accept, and when he does, he pulls him up to stand in front of him. Their bodies are flush, chest to chest, and Wolfgang doesn’t let go of his hands.

    “How many times do I have to tell you that I am?”

It’s not enough, it’s not nearly enough to excuse the ways in which he falls short, and they both know this. But Will knows he’s trying, too, and so he softens at least a little.

    “You’re the only one I want,” Wolfgang continues. “The only one.”

Will waits for him to say more. He needs him to say more. Wolfgang’s fingers tighten around his.

    “Lila wanted fun, and I only led her on to get more information on blockers. I did that for you, for  _ us.  _ But nothing happened. She didn’t budge, and she knew I wasn’t going to either. Nothing happened.”

Will tries as hard as he can to intercept the next memory Wolfgang sends him, but his head throbs with another oncoming headache and his heart is tired and it’s so, so scary to not feel like he can do this anymore. He’d never realized how much he relied on being a sensate until the experience was practically ripped out from under him, transformed into a nightmare of running and hiding and fighting and shooting up with drugs he swore he’d never touch. He’d never wanted this connection but now he doesn’t know how to live without it, and oh, how he’d always wanted Wolfgang from the moment they first saw each other. Now, his skin stings with the ghost of Lila’s touch on Wolfgang’s neck and Will feels the way she had wanted him, too. 

He feels the leather of Lila’s skirt, the brush of her hair on his cheeks and the pressure of her body resting, grinding on his thigh. He feels Wolfgang push her away, feels her push back, and the tug of war replays in his mind, disconnected and faded but still able to be followed, whether he wants to watch the story play out or not.

    “Why can’t you believe me?” Wolfgang says. His head falls forward until his nose brushes against Will’s. “Why is it so hard for you to believe that I fight for you? That I want you?”

Will exhales, letting out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He unclenches his jaw as much as he can, trying to decrease the tension built up in his muscles. Wolfgang’s hand comes up to his cheek to do the same, and for the first time in the hour their eyes meet. 

    “You’re the only one I want,” Wolfgang says again, and the ferocity of his words border on exasperation. “Only you. Believe me, Will.”

He does, because it’s hard not to when Wolfgang kisses him so hard his lips hurt and the pain borders on comforting. Will is tired and wants affection and validation and peace, but Wolfgang knows how to give multiple things at once and if he can’t, he’s never been one not to try. He knows Will wants intensity too, ferocity and desire and consistent reciprocation, and Wolfgang gives with every ounce of force he can muster. 

They stumble into the bedroom, love drunk and desperate, and Will leans on his side, watching with impatience as Wolfgang strips himself of his clothes. He’s quick, as he’s always been, and he lurches into the curve of Will’s body, slotting his mouth against his while his hand glides up and down Will’s erection. 

Wolfgang has never been one for traditional foreplay, so he bites kisses against Will’s collarbone at the same time he wraps his hand around Will’s balls, just tight enough to make him hiss out another pleased curse. Will grips his waist, reaching for Wolfgang’s shaft, wanting to reciprocate, but Wolfgang swats his hand away, curling his fingers around his wrist and pinning his arm above his head. Will is on his back now, head pressed against the lopsided pillows, and he gladly lets Wolfang take control. 

    “This is about you,” he murmurs against his chest, where he’s busy sucking a hickey against his warm skin. Will hums lowly in reciprocation, in understanding. “This is about me showing you how much I love you.” 

He moves his way down Will’s body until he eventually licks slow at the space between his legs, urging his thighs apart until Will is gasping and moaning and needing and  _ god,  _ does he need. 

    “This is about me showing you how much I belong to you,” Wolfgang murmurs against Will’s hole at the same time he grips his waist so hard his knuckles turn white. Will moans loud. 

    “I love you,” Wolfgang says between plunges of his mouth on Will’s cock. He repeats himself, over and over, and the words burn into Will’s skin and his mind. He gasps and says, “I love you more.”

Wolfgang breathes in sharply. He licks his lips before frowning.

    “You don’t,” he answers, not allowing any room for rebuttal, and Will writhes in response, his protests drowning on his tongue when Wolfgang runs his fingers around the outside of his hole. He doesn’t wait before plunging inside, moving slowly and patiently but still giving, knowing this is exactly what Will wants, what he needs. He feels it in his own bones, a previously dull ache that’s become a wildfire with every brief, minimal touch Will gives him. This isn’t about him, though, and he struggles to remember that when Will’s fingertips reach for his. He wants the contact, and if it’s what he wants then Wolfgang will give it to him, but he needs him to know that he’s doing it for  _ him.  _ Not for himself, not now —  and not ever, really. 

    “You can’t possibly love me more,” Wolfgang says, adding another finger. Will groans. “I love  _ you, _ Will.”

He smiles and Wolfgang feels his own lips curl in response. Will’s body twitches and Wolfgang knows he needs more, and so he brings his free hand down onto his ass cheek, applying just enough pressure to make him whimper again. 

    “Fuck Lila,” Wolfgang declares. “Fuck anyone else. I only want you.”

    “I know,” Will says finally after Wolfgang repeats himself enough, and that’s what they’d both been waiting for. It’s the truth, they both know this, and while sometimes it’s hard to admit or to truly understand, they all know the depth to which Wolfgang’s love runs. He’s not always the best at showing it, but Will feels it like a current running through his veins, insistent and sure, and it’s a relief he doesn’t know how he could ever forget. 

Wolfgang repositions their bodies, kissing Will’s lips for a long time before he reaches in the bedside drawer for a condom. 

    “Only you,” he says again once they’re together, once he’s pressed against Will’s back, cradling his body in his arms, holding and touching as much of him as he can reach. Connected physically and emotionally, Will yearns and Wolfgang gives amd gives and  _ gives.  _ And when his lover repeats those two words, over and over, teeth and tongue pressed close against his skin, against  _ their  _ skin — and he means what he says, Will can tell— he wonders how he ever  doubted the sacrality between them when it burns like this.

**Author's Note:**

> The power dynamic between Will and Wolfgang when they're under pressure was so much fun to dive into and explore, and I'm already working on other pieces with this ship! If you enjoyed this, let me know in the comments or at my tumblr, sweeterthankarma, where I'm always available to take fic requests or to just talk about my favorite characters!


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